Mad Night!
by MusicKeeper
Summary: Game night with the Keepers! And this isn't a goofy game of Truth or Dare. WARNING: randomness, pickles, and 100% awesome sauce! Concept belongs to PrincessWilla101.
1. Pickups and Proms

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back, and this is about to get CRAZY! So I was given the honor of continuing PrincessWilla101's wonderful story Mad Night. I had been looking for updates, and when she said she was looking for an author to continue it, well, I jumped at the chance! I now give you ... Terry Maybeck!**

**Maybeck: *mumbles through gag***

**Me: *rips the gag off* **

**Maybeck: AHHHHHHHHH! **

**Me: Do my disclaimer and you will be free.**

**Maybeck: Ooh! Okay! MusicKeeper does not own Disney, MadLibs, the Kingdom Keepers, or PrincessWilla101's awesome concept.**

**Me: Very good. *cuts rope***

**Maybeck: I'm free, I'm free! *falls into a sewer* Darn.**

**Me: Did anyone else catch the similarity to Hunchback of Notre Dame? Just me? Okay, on with the story. **

Charlene's POV

After I chewed Maybeck out for using my name for the MadLib, Philby handed Amanda the book. She flipped through and suddenly grinned. "Okay. Philby, gimme an adjective," she said.

"Loquacious."

I blinked. "What does that mean?"

"Dude, the point of a MadLib is to laugh, not to think," said Maybeck.

Philby crossed his arms. "Too bad. That's my adjective."

"Okay," Amanda sighed, rolling her eyes as she jotted it down. "Charlene, give me a noun."

I thought for a minute, then grinned sweetly at Maybeck. "Moron."

"Hey!"

"I'm not talking about you, Amanda." I winked at Maybeck, who scowled and stuck his tongue out at me.

Amanda smirked at the two of us. "Finn, give me a noun."

"Uh, teddy bear."

Maybeck chortled. "What are you, three?"

Finn turned red. "No! I don't even like teddy bears! It was the first thing that popped up in my head! Amanda loves them, though."

Amanda also turned red. "What? No, I don't," she stuttered.

"Don't deny it. You have twenty of those bears sitting on your bed and another forty all over your room!" Finn said.

"Okay, break it up," said Jess. "What's the next one, Mandy?"

"Body part, Jess." Amanda shot a glare at Finn that said _this isn't over._

"Eyeball." I squirmed at Jess's answer.

Amanda wrote it down. "Willa, I need a noun."

"Nail, I guess?"

Amanda giggled as she scribbled on the page. "Maybeck, gimme a verb, please."

"Type."

"Okay…" said Amanda. "Jess, noun."

"Truck."

We all stared at Jess. She shrugged. "What? It's not my fault I like GMC pickups. So I like country stuff. Deal with it."

Amanda glanced back down at the book. "Charlene, give me a plural noun."

I picked up a nearby pillow and whacked Maybeck in the head. "OW!" he protested.

"Pillows," I answered, smirking. Maybeck retrieved another pillow and hit me back. I giggled and fought back. An all-out pillow fight ensued. After a couple minutes of squealing, whacking, and spitting out feathers, we heard a loud bang. "ORDER IN THE COURT!" Willa yelled.

Wait, where'd she get the gavel? Never mind, it was just a hammer. Willa blushed as we took our respective seats. "Sorry. I watch too much judge TV."

Amanda resumed the game. "Verb, Maybeck."

"Um, snooze."

This time, Amanda and I both snickered. "Finn, I need an adjective."

"Dirty," said Finn.

"Willa, I need a verb," said Amanda, trying to hold in her laughter.

"Decipher. What's so incredibly funny?" asked Willa.

"Nothing. Jess," Amanda snorted, "give me another verb."

"Push?"

Philby rolled his eyes. "Okay, we don't want the words to be incomprehensible, but we don't want them to be boring," he said.

"You're one to talk. I love muffins, but you don't see me going around yelling MUFFIN all the time!" Jess argued.

"Hey!"

"PHILBY I NEED A NOUN!" Amanda yelled above the commotion.

"Pickle!"

"See? There he goes again," said Jess.

I crossed my arms. "Last time, Philbs. No more pickle references," I said.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Philby dropped to his knees. "PICKLES PICKLES PICKLES!" he screamed, waving his arms like a maniac.

"Okay, we get it! You like pickles, now stop saying the stupid word!" said Maybeck.

"PICKLES!"

I pulled a pickle out of my pocket and dropped it into Philby's mouth. "Thank you for your opinions, guys. Can you quiet down now?" I asked. "Continue, Amanda."

"Thank you, Charlene. I now need a random word from Jess."

"GANGNAM STYLE!"

"Gangnam it is." Amanda wrote it down. "Two adjectives from Finn and Maybeck, please."

"Hot," said Maybeck.

"Awkward," retorted Finn.

"Good." Amanda looked around the room to make sure there was no purple pickle-eating ninja to cause another ruckus. "Last ones. I need a color from Charlene and a noun from Philby."

"Green," I said.

"Pickle," said Philby.

"A NOUN OTHER THAN PICKLE!" we all yelled at him.

"Fine! Muffin, then," he said.

Amanda bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Okay, here you go. Your Girlfriend's Perfect Prom."

We cast sideways glances at each other. This was going to be very interestingly awkward among the seven of us.

Your Girlfriend's Perfect Prom

A girl loves perfection, so, when the prom rolls around, give her the night of her dreams. Greet her by calling her a _loquacious moron_ and present her with a _teddy bear_ for her _eyeball. _Rent a nail for the two of you to_ type_ together to the prom in style. Once you've arrived, go to the refreshment table and put together a _truck_ of her favorite finger _pillows._ Ask her to _snooze_ every time a song that she likes is played. However, don't appear _dirty_. Allow her to mingle and _decipher_ with her friends. At the end of the night, _push _her outside to your _pickle_ _gangnam_-style. You should end her_ hot_ night with an _awkward_ kiss. Leave her blushing _green_ while remembering a wonderful _muffin_ with you.

We were all doubled over laughing by the time Amanda finished reading the crazy advice. "I'm not using that page on my prom night," said Finn through his laughter.

I wiped away a few tears. "Well, I certainly wouldn't accept a guy who called me a moron," I giggled.

We burst into hysterics and literally rolled on the floor laughing.


	2. Letters and Avalanches

**A/N: No, I have not abandoned this story! I think I just ... forgot about it for a while? Well, it doesn't matter. I am back now and I pledge there will be more consistent updates from now on! Anyhoo ... *sigh* So much to do, and so little time to do it! Well, here we are again, back in the Keeper universe. Now presenting ... Finn Whitman!**

**Finn: MK, can you let me go?**

**Me: Do my disclaimer first.**

**Finn: NEVER!**

**Me: Wow, you're more stubborn than Maybeck. I thought it was the other way around.**

**Finn: True. **

**Me: Please? *bats eyelashes***

**Finn: *sighs and rolls eyes* Fine. MK does not own the Kingdom Keepers. Mr. Ridley Pearson and Disney hold that title.**

**Me: Just like Disney owns everything else ... -_-**

**Finn: Yeah. At first, she was happy when Disney announced they were making more Star Wars movies, but now she hates them for ending Star Wars: The Clone Wars.**

**Me: It's true! BRING BACK AHSOKA! **

**Finn: You said I could go.**

**Me: *blinks* Oh, yeah. There's the door.**

**Finn: *waves and walks out***

Amanda's POV

We finally calmed down from our hysterical laughter, and Finn went to get some drinks. He came back and handed us all some Dr. Pepper bottles before he sat back down next to me. I smiled at him, and he put his arm around me. I handed the book to Jess and snuggled up to Finn, waiting for the first question.

Jess smirked at us, then she read the first word needed. "Okay. Gimme a verb ending in 'ing'."

"Slurping!" Philby cried. He slurped his Dr. Pepper to punctuate his choice.

Jess raised an eyebrow. "O…kay?" she said, scribbling it down. "Next word: foreign country."

"Estonia," Willa said promptly.

I raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard of that country," I said.

Willa shrugged. "We're writing to pen pals for school. Mine is from Estonia."

"Yeah, and I got one from boring old Texas," Philby grumbled.

"Oh, okay," I said, looking at Finn. He seemed just as clueless about Estonia as I was. I just decided to drop it. "What's the next word, Jess?"

Jess looked up from writing on the pad. "Oh, um, I need a funny sound."

Maybeck crunched up his Dr. Pepper can. "Crunch," he said.

Jess jotted it down. "I need a verb." She wrote something else on the page that I couldn't see.

"Draw," I said. I had a feeling Jess was doodling on the page around the words.

"Okay." Jess made a note. "Now I need a number."

Charlene spoke up. "Thirty-six million, four hundred ninety-three thousand, eight hundred twenty," she said, grinning madly.

Finn whistled. "That's a big number," he said.

"It was completely random," Charlene said. She was obviously proud of herself.

Jess shrugged helplessly and put her pencil to paper. "What was it again, Charlene? Say it slower this time."

"It's thirty-six million, four hundred ninety-three thousand, eight hundred twenty."

Jess nodded to show she had it down. "I need a plural noun," she said.

"Letters!" said Willa, smiling.

This time, it was Jess's turn to stare at her. "You really like this pen pal of yours, don't you?" she asked.

Willa nodded. "Yeah, I do. She sounds really sweet."

"Okay, we're off topic here. Can we get back to the madlib now?" Maybeck said impatiently.

Willa, Jess, Charlene and I all turned to stare at him. At the same time, we all yelled, "Rude!"

Maybeck raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry! Just asking," he defended himself.

Jess shook her head and wrote down Willa's choice. "Now it's Finn's turn. I need a verb in past tense."

Finn stared at her. "What does a verb in past tense even mean!?"

"IT MEANS A VERB THAT ENDS IN 'ED', STUPID!" Philby yelled, throwing pickles at Finn. Finn covered his head and ducked to avoid the flying pickles.

Willa grabbed Philby's arm and held it down. "Someone take the pickle jar!" she said. I obediently got up, grabbed the jar, and took it to the kitchen. I quickly stuffed it in a cabinet. "All clear!" I shouted as I returned to the living room and reclaimed my seat.

Jess rolled her eyes. "Please state your choice, Finn," she said.

"Um, poked?"

"Close enough." Jess wrote it down. "We need an adjective."

"Spindly," I said.

"Like you?" Maybeck teased.

I glared at him. "What are you talking about? I'm not spindly!"

Maybeck shrugged, grinning at me. "You are so."

I responded by levitating Maybeck up near the ceiling. "Admit I'm not super thin or else," I threatened.

Maybeck crossed his arms. "Never."

"Suit yourself," I said, grinning. I banged his head against the ceiling.

"OUCH!" Maybeck shouted. My friends watched in amusement. I smirked. "Admit it," I ordered.

"No!"

I banged him again. "Ow!" And again. "Ow!" And again. "Stop it!"

"Not until you admit I'm not spindly," I said, enjoying this.

"Fine! You're not spindly," Maybeck said.

I smirked. "Thank you." I levitated him over a bunch of pillows and dropped him. "OW!" Everyone but Maybeck burst out laughing. He scowled at me. I only smirked and shrugged.

Jess calmed down enough to write down the answer. "Okay," she said, still laughing. "Someone give me a type of event."

"Um …" I thought for a minute.

Charlene beat me to it. "A softball game," she said.

I stared at her. "Why softball?"

Charlene shrugged. "I just joined the team at school. I've got a game on Saturday."

"Oh, okay," I said. Jess wrote down "softball game". "Now I need an adverb," she said.

"Painfully," Maybeck said, his words a little slurred. Willa rolled her eyes. "Aren't you being a little dramatic?" she said.

"No," was the answer.

Jess rolled her eyes as well and wrote Maybeck's answer. "All right, now give me a noun."

Finn raised his hand. "Trombone," he said with a goofy grin on his face. I smirked and tickled him. He yelled in surprise and tickled me back.

Jess smirked and wrote it down. "Another noun."

Philby beat us all with his usual crazy cry of "PICKLES!"

Charlene threw her hands up in frustration. "Are you kidding me!? I thought we were done with that!" she cried.

"You will never stop the power of pickles!" Philby stated loudly.

Jess sighed and complied. "Last time, Philby."

"NEVER!"

Willa sighed. "Just deal with it."

Jess finished writing. "Now I need an adverb."

"Stupidly," I said, staring pointedly at Maybeck, who stared right back and gave me an innocent look.

Jess jotted it down. "Mmm … Finn!" Finn jumped at his name. "I want a verb ending in 'ing'."

Finn looked at me and put his arm around my shoulder. "Dancing," he said. I sighed contentedly.

The girls, except for me, awwwed. I rolled my eyes. "Let's just finish the madlib," I said, blushing madly.

Jess shook her head at me and Finn before turning back to the page. "Another noun, por favor," she said.

"Corpse," said Maybeck. We all stared at him, and he shrugged. "What?"

Charlene shuddered. "That's a creepy word."

"You're giving me the shivers," Willa agreed.

"Me, too," I said.

Jess rolled her eyes once again. "You guys are wimps," she said, jotting down the word. I tackled her before she could finish. "AAH!" she yelled.

I smirked. "Don't call me a wimp. I've been through just as much as you have."

Jess thought for a minute. "That's true. Okay, you're not a wimp," she said.

I settled back next to Finn, satisfied. "Thank you," I said, smirking.

Jess sat back down on the floor, the book in her lap. "I need a part of the body."

"Thigh!" said Philby, who was suddenly eating a fried chicken thigh.

Jess looked at him strangely. "Okay?" she said, writing it down. "Now I need another verb ending in 'ing'."

"How about … swinging?" Willa volunteered.

Jess nodded and wrote it down. "Last one! I need one more verb."

"Bounce! Bounce, bounce, bounce," I said, bouncing excitedly in my seat.

Jess wrote it down and held up the book triumphantly. "Time for the result!" she said dramatically. She read the finished madlib.

How to Survive an Avalanche

What would you do if you were out _slurping_ on a mountain in_Estonia_and suddenly heard a loud _crunch_ as the ground started to _draw_?Before you know it, you've been buried under _36,493,820_ pounds of _letters_! You've just been _poked_ by an avalanche, a _spindly _phenomenon that occurs when there is a _softball game_ on a mountaintop. You need to dig yourself out as _painfully_ as possible. If you can reach a ski _trombone_ or a long, thin _pickle_, use it to poke around and determine which way is up. _Stupidly_ begin _dancing_ in that direction as if your_ corpse_ depended on it — it does! When you get to the surface, move your _thigh_ to stay on top of the snow as if you are _swinging_ freestyle. With any luck, you will make your way to safety before you _bounce_ to death!

It was silent for a moment after Jess finished reading. We all stared at each other, having no clue what to make of the result.

Willa finally spoke. "That's an awkward situation."

And we all burst into laughter once again.


End file.
